Chryed Convalescent
by Mushroom Hair
Summary: Keep warm.


Christian walked out of the bathroom, still wet from the shower. Whistling softly under his breath, he rubbed his hair and face rigorously with a towel, stepping carefully and quietly, trying not to wake Syed.

He dropped the towel onto his shoulders and frowned at the sight of Syed, leaning weakly against the kitchen worktop.

"What are you doing out of bed?" He scolded.

Syed half heartedly waved a mug in his direction.

"I was thirsty. I like what you're wearing. Skin, it suits you."

Christian took the mug from him and guided him gently back to the bed, laying him down and pulling the covers up to his chin.

"You should have called me. What can I get you?"

He pushed Syed's damp hair away from his forehead, laying his hand upon it, feeling the heat.

"I did call, in my best weedy invalid voice…" Syed paused until his coughing fit had subsided, a dry hacking that shook his entire body. "But you were singing.." he wheezed.

Christian looked down guiltily.

"Oops, I thought I was being quiet."

Syed managed a small smile.

"You were, for you. Anyway, I like it. Can I have a cup of tea?"

Christian jumped up and switched on the kettle.

"Of course you can. Is that all? Do you think you could eat anything? You should, a bit of toast? Coco Pops? Custard Cream? I could make porridge…" His eyes filled with tears as he noticed the boniness of Syed's shoulders.

"I could try a bit, if you don't mind." Syed hunted under the pillow for a tissue and blew his nose.

"Why would I mind? You numpty. Anything you want, just say."

Syed grinned, a spark returning momentarily to his eyes.

"You could put some clothes on, the sight of you like that is giving me feelings I'm too feeble to cope with."

Christian laughed and closed the door to the microwave, turning the dial.

"Now then, none of that. Just concentrate on getting better, Have you had your antibiotics?"

Syed nodded.

"Yes Dr. Clarke."

The microwave pinged. Christian took out the steaming bowl and brought it over, blowing on the contents to cool them down.

"Doctors and doctors. I can't wait," he tasted the porridge and gave the spoon to Syed.

"I'm sorry Christian."

Christian gazed at him, shocked.

"What for? You can't help that you've been ill. I like looking after you. If I'd done it sooner, stopped you trying to carry on regardless, it might not have developed into bronchitis."

He pulled on a pair of tracksuit bottoms and went to pour the tea. Bringing the mug over, he rested it on the shelf next to Syed.

"There you go beautiful. Your books are here, the remote's for the telly and the cd player, your Ipod and your phone, so you've got no excuse for not staying put. I've filled up your water jug. Ring me if you need anything."

Christian stretched a vest on over his head and Syed happily admired the muscles of his chest tautening as he raised his arms. He lifted his head slightly from the pillows as Christian bent down, returning his kiss, muttering;

"Careful, you might catch something."

Christian smiled.

"What's yours is mine, including your filthy dirty germs. Remember, ring me if you need anything, anything at all and I'll pop back in at lunch time. I love you."

"Love you too." Syed let Christian's hand slip from his grasp and watched him leave the flat.

* * *

Syed propped himself up and tried to look at the television, but, after a run of three property programmes, he began to lose the will to live. He had managed to eat most of the porridge and felt slightly perkier, far better than he had for the whole of the last week. He turned the T.V off and put the radio on, read a few chapters of one of his books, stared at the ceiling for some time, kept covering and uncovering himself as he got hotter and colder, coughed a lot, stared at the ceiling a little more and then listened to the rain outside as it beat against the window in a sudden downpour.

He turned his head to watch the rivulets run down the glass and spotted Christian's coat on the back of a chair, hanging forgotten.

* * *

'Bugger,' thought Christian, as fat, wet droplets splattered onto his head.

His client Darren was an ex paratrooper, ripped to perfection and hard as nails. Christian suspected that he'd be quite happy to continue, even during a hailstorm. 'Probably even a hurricane, or a volcanic eruption,' he mused, wishing he wasn't being nagged by a desire not to appear wimpy, cursing his sudden pathetic need to maintain some sort of alpha male facade and wishing he could just camply ask Darren if he would mind if he went home to get his anorak.

'Just not in the mood for this,' he realised. 'I want to go back to the flat and look after Sy.'

He grinned broadly at his client.

"Alright Daz? Won't let a bit of rain stop us will we?" Praying that the response might be;

'Actually my mum says I'm not to exercise when it's wet, I might get a chill on my kidneys.'

In reality, Darren gave a caveman grunt in answer and lifted a weight with a flourish.

"Jolly good, let's crack on.." Christian hoped he didn't sound as unenthusiastic as he felt.

Beneath the noise of the driving rain, the hum of traffic, the cries of the market stall holders and Darren's grunts, Christian heard a familiar cough behind him.

* * *

Syed leant against the railings, weak as a kitten, drenched by the rain and his feverish sweating. He enviously regarded Christian and his client as they stood in the middle of the gardens. The man was almost as tall as Christian, shaved head and powerful muscles, Syed felt a small pang of jealousy, knowing it was unreasonable and caused by him feeling so very unwell. A cough rose up sharply in his chest, shuddering through him.

Christian twisted round in alarm.

"My apologies Daz," he said, "that's my boyfriend, he's been really ill. Do you mind if we cut it short for today? I need to look after him. I'll make up the time on our next appointment."

Darren looked relieved.

"No worries mate. My mum always tells me off for exercising in the rain anyway." He shook Christian's hand and set off cheerily, towards the tube station.

Christian raced across to Syed and grabbed him into a hug.

"What are you doing out here Sy? You shouldn't be outside in this weather!"

Syed limply held up the coat he was gripping onto.

"I felt a bit better, for about a minute. And I thought you might need this.."

Christian took the jacket and wrapped it firmly around Syed's shoulders. Deeply touched, he wordlessly shook his head and bustled him back towards the flat.

* * *

Inside, Christian sat Syed down in front of the fire and peeled off the layers of his wet clothes.

"What am I going to do with you Sy?"

Syed smiled slowly.

"Now you've got me naked, I can think of something."

Christian groaned and ran his thumb down Syed's neck, admiring his skin as it gleamed in the firelight.

"You temptress."

He saw Syed's eyelids droop with tiredness, noticed him try to hide a yawn of exhaustion.

"We'll wait Sy, until you're better."

Syed mouthed a small 'oh' of disappointment and leant his head onto Christian's shoulder.

Christian breathed softly into his ear;

"You're worth waiting for."


End file.
